


Learning From My Nightmares :: Trust Eternity

by Aricadia



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Magic, Powerful Reader, Some Fluff, adding tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:49:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aricadia/pseuds/Aricadia
Summary: “I didn’t mean to kill her. I looked down at my hands, which were still shaking lightly, before gazing about my surroundings. The silence of the alleyway was oppressive compared to the screaming and crying that had occurred just moments before. There were no animals, no carriages, no nothing. It seemed as if the whole world was holding its breath, tense and waiting for my next move.”idk im not good at summaries, just read and find outupdates on Saturdays
Relationships: Undertaker (Kuroshitsuji)/Original Character(s), Undertaker (Kuroshitsuji)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ooookay, here we go. This idea struck me one day at 2am so here we are. This will be my first fic, constructive criticism is welcome but be gentle, I’m trying my best.

I didn’t mean to kill her. I looked down at my hands, which were still shaking lightly, before gazing about my surroundings. The silence of the alleyway was oppressive compared to the screaming and crying that had occurred just moments before. There were no animals, no carriages, no nothing. It seemed as if the whole world was holding its breath, tense and waiting for my next move. 

It was your generic creepy alleyway, boxes and crates and dumpsters lining the walls. The structures formed dark shadows that lightly contrasted the brighter colors caused by the light of the nearly full moon above. I stood silently in the midst of the narrow pathway, the only thing that could be heard was my own quickened breathing. I was facing a crumpled body that laid against a wall. This woman had definitely contributed to the misery of my new life. She had tormented me ever since I had moved to this city, more so than anyone else. 

There were suspicions about me, but no one knew if they were true, and if they were, to what extent. Of course I hadn’t intended for this to happen to her, but I can’t say it didn’t feel good to get her out of the way. 

I was no stranger to death. I had killed many times before, it was part of the reason I moved away from my home, if it could even be considered that, in America. America held nothing but bad memories for me. I couldn’t remember a time where I had family, and the word meant very little to me, the concept of someone truly caring about me foreign. Most people just wanted to use me or needed a favor. I spent most of my life in various orphanages, with unimpressive education and of course, no one to guide those of my kind. In the beginning I thought magic made me special. In reality, all it did was make me a target. I was able to take it for quite a long time, but if memory serves me, I was eight when my first orphanage burnt down. A direct result of my anger, naturally. I moved a lot, and as such I’d long since given up on things like friends and sentimental objects. They made me weak, and there wasn’t room for emotions in the life I was soon to lead. 

When I was sixteen I went on the run, and that’s when I developed majority of the skills I still use frequently. It was also the time I killed the most people. For the next year, I was barely myself, the magic controlled me. I don’t remember what snapped me out of it, but when it all over, things weren’t just as easy as just forgetting everything I’d done. No, I could remember every little detail. I could recall the faces of each and every person I’d taken the life of. It felt like all the emotions I hadn’t bothered with during those years all rushed back and hit me at once. They haunted me, and occasionally those times still make appearances in my nightmares today. Within five months of me turning seventeen, I left. For good. And now for roughly seven months, I called London home. 

Ever since I’d crashed, I had forbidden myself from using magic, I hated what it did to me. For the most part, I upheld that rule. There had been exceptions, if losing control and inevitably resulting in the death of a human was considered that. Since I moved, I had been the cause of at least six deaths now, it was surprising the officials hadn’t caught on yet. All I had wanted was a fresh start, I tried so hard to fit in. But redemption was so far out of reach, no matter how high I jumped it seemed as if such a thing simply could not be granted to me. As if I could never change, never forget. As if I was born to be an outcast. 

So I kept to myself for the safety of others, despite my few acquaintances making fun and talking behind my back. However this unfortunate fellow had pushed too far. I glanced again at the body. Her brown eyes remained open and her dark hair sprawled out across the concrete, covering her face. Her expression remained one of pure terror, even in death. She had tried to follow me home after a long and stressful day, taunting me every step of the way. Her last mistake. I reached my limit, I snapped, and as such she had been thrown into the wall with such force that she had died upon impact. Her cries had been cut short, I could still hear them ringing faintly in my ears. My intentions were not to kill her, I only meant to scare her into leaving me be. But my power still could not be controlled, the exact reason I’d strayed from practicing magic. I was too strong and my mind couldn’t handle it, losing control was all too easy. 

Then a loud noise sounded behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I whipped around to face it, hands raised slightly in defense. I blew a strand of brown hair out of my face, might as well go out with a bang. Anticlimactically, a white and brown cat stood beside a fallen box, and I turned back towards the body. I was more of a dog person. 

Drifting back into my thoughts, I hadn’t accounted for having to deal with a body tonight, and frankly I found the idea of picking it up and moving it anywhere absolutely disgusting. When I had killed before, I was already far enough gone it didn’t matter if I used magic to burn the body. But it had been such a long time, such a little spell that this time I was already beginning to come back down. So I stood with my arms crossed, left knee slightly bent and head tilted to the side while thinking. After a few minutes I tucked a long strand of loosely curled brown hair behind my ear. I had come to the conclusion that I would have to find other means of burning it. I started walking back the way I had come after noting the street signs. 

Returning to the scene of the crime some time later, I idly twirled a strand of hair around my finger and paused before entering the alleyway. Clouds now covered the moon, shrouding the path in darkness as the night progressed. I stepped forward again and continued walking, what was there to be afraid of? Monsters? Heck, I was the monster. 

I stopped about halfway down the long alley and looked to my left, where I had left the body. The... body. The body was gone. Right. I looked back and double checked the street signs, but sure enough I was in the right place. My blue-green eyes narrowed and I frowned, crossing my arms again. Everything looked just as I had left it - minus the body - which by the way, didn’t usually just disappear into thin air. 

After a few moments of thought, I just shrugged and rubbed my eyes. It was late, I was tired, and suddenly this wasn’t my problem anymore. I spun on my heel and started walking back to my apartment, relaxed but still subconsciously alert and wary, stepping silently and avoiding any debris that would make a sound. 

Before long I was standing at the door. Letting out a breath of relief I didn’t know I’d been holding, I stepped inside, not bothering with the lights. I flopped down onto the rug in the middle of the room without a care in the world. My eyes shut, welcoming the familiar darkness. As my mind drifted away, there was one last thought. Yep, I’ll sleep right here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had some free time so uuuh yeah

It was dark, close to midnight if I had to guess. I’d been out late, I hadn’t thought this persistent idiot would wait around for me. I kept my head down and my arms crossed over my chest. Taking the turn into the alley, I picked up the speed in which I was walking. I could still hear her behind me, spitting insults as the heels of her shoes clicked rhythmically against the concrete, matching my pace. I tried to block her out, but there was nothing else to draw my attention away. “Shut up,” I whispered, still walking in the opposite direction. I hoped she would take my warning, but of course, she just kept coming. 

“Aw, is the poor baby angry?” She taunted in a singsongy voice. 

My fists clenched and my breathing quickened. She picked the wrong day. I stopped and turned around to face her, “I said, shut up.” I hissed, looking up to meet her gaze. My eyes reflected the same venom that could be heard in my voice. 

My actions, out of character for me, caused her to pause for a moment. Then she continued striding towards me, “Why? What are you going to do about it?” A wicked was smile plastered on her red lips, her eyes wide and imitating a crazed look as she started sprinting towards me. Memories flooded back and I screamed. Out of instinct, a single word slipped from my mouth. Simultaneously, I held out my palm in her direction before flinging it in the direction of the wall, and of course, she followed suit. Her actions were no longer her own. 

The scream that escaped her body almost mimicked my own, cut short as she slid to the ground. It was clear multiple bones were broken, her body contorted in awful ways. There was a smear of blood and a crack in the wall where she had made contact. I stepped back. Her wild eyes remained open, boring into mine as she stood up and lunged for me again. 

My eyes snapped open with a gasp, panting heavily and taking in my surroundings with momentary confusion. Bright rays of sunlight streamed in through the open blinds of my window, illuminating the room. No alley, no woman, no blood. Nightmare, I concluded. My whole body was sore, and I was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Oh. Right. I had slept on the floor. I shook my head and groaned tiredly as I pushed myself into a seated position, bringing an arm up to rub my eyes. I took a moment to try to calm my breathing and relax before standing. 

I started walking in the vague direction of my room, dodging a table but nearly knocking myself out on a wall. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, more sleep, I thought to myself as I pushed past the door to my room. I entered the closet and looked around. After a couple of minutes, I shrugged. Reaching in and grabbing a pair of clothes at random, I decided that at this point I really couldn’t care less. I turned to the bathroom and paused for a moment while looking in the mirror, splashing my face with water and drying it off again. I smoothed down the messiest parts of my hair, twirling parts of it to enhance yesterday’s curls before blowing the candles and walking out. Standing in front of the exit door of my apartment, I decided should probably find out what happened to that body after all. I locked the door behind me and started back to the scene, the alley would be the first stop of the day. 

It didn’t take long to reach the location, it was just a few minutes walk from my home. I normally took the long way around and avoided this path unless I was in a rush to get home because everyone knows alleys are just creepy. I scanned the area carefully before continuing. Even in the day, it felt just as dark and silent as the night before, despite the sunlight and sounds of carriages on the nearby roads. I kept my eyes peeled as I walked, constantly looking from side to side. 

A few feet before the spot where the body used to be, I stopped, eyes narrowed. Ahead was a man sitting on a crate, legs crossed and facing the opposite wall. I observed him quietly; he had long, white hair and bangs that covered his eyes. On top of his head sat a black hat with a tail, and he was dressed in long black robes with a grey sash that was draped across his left shoulder and tied at his right hip. A darker colored scar ran down his left eye, across his nose, and continued down horizontally across his neck. Literal embodiment of creepy. I crossed my arms, taking a single step forwards and resting my weight on one leg. Probably against my better judgment, I called out to him, “Uh, hello?” Mentally, I wanted to slap myself. That sounded so dumb. 

The mysterious man remained still, hardly moving a muscle as he spoke, “Hello.”

I stood there for a few moments, confusion undoubtedly written all over my face. I tapped my finger on my other arm out of nervous habit, “Do you.. um.. need something?” I spoke awkwardly. He didn’t reply, only stood up and turned to face me. Shit, he was tall. He took a step towards me, but I stood my ground. Especially after last night’s incident, I wasn’t in the mood to be pushed around. 

Then he spoke, and I had a sudden change of heart, “I’ve been waiting for you, it seems I just missed you last night. I’ve been here since then,” he hummed easily. 

My eyes widened slightly, and the fiery gaze I once held dropped. As he stepped forward again, I turned and started running. I’d always been quick and agile, surely this guy wouldn’t be able to keep up. I thought wrong. I felt his fingers brush my shoulder, and I ducked away in the opposite direction. The maneuver threw me slightly off-balance, and it would take me a stride or two to get my limbs back under control. 

Unfortunately, he was faster than anticipated, and within that timeframe, I was shoved to the ground facedown. I felt his palm placed firmly between my shoulder blades, pressing me into the ground with insane strength. I hit the concrete with such force that the breath was knocked out of me, I could barely put up a fight when he pulled me to my feet. Struggling best I could against his grasp, I stumbled, ending up with my back pressed up against his torso. His right arm wrapped around my throat, constricting my airflow, while his left hand covered my mouth to prevent me from speaking or screaming. My hands shot to my throat, trying to loosen his grip as I gasped for air. Tears started to roll down my cheeks, I was not going out like this. I lifted my leg and slammed my foot down on top of his, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “This would be so much easier if you wouldn’t fight,” he growled in my ear, tightening his grip. My lungs started to burn, mind beginning to swim from lack of oxygen. Then it went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couldn’t sleep. here’s another

My eyes opened to a white ceiling. I blinked a few times, where was I? I shook my head, that was a question I was tired of asking. As I sat up, I brought a hand up to rub my head, recalling the recent events. Going back to the alley, seeing the man and then. Ah, yes, I’d been kidnapped. Fantastic.

Looking up, my eyes scanned the room. It wasn’t spectacular, 10x10 if I had to guess. The air felt cold and the walls, floor, and ceiling were all the same off-white color. There was a door in the far corner and a lantern in the center of the room. Other than that, there were no distinguishing features about the area aside from the black blanket I was currently sitting on top of. 

I pushed myself to my feet and walked slowly towards the door, my shoes clicking against the floor louder than I would’ve liked. As I reached for the handle, the door swung open inwards, it probably would have knocked me out had I not jumped backward. The same man from the alley stood before me. He was dressed similarly, still in long black robes and white hair covering his eyes, however, the hat and the sash were missing. I took a step backward away from him, subconsciously bringing my hands to a defensive position. 

He was the first to speak, “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.” He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice was soft but firm, almost as if it was a command. I took it as a suggestion. 

I laughed humorlessly once, shaking my head in disbelief, “Bullshit. Why did you kidnap me then.” It was less of a question and more of a statement. 

To my surprise, he answered, “I’ve been cleaning up after you for a while now. I figure that this is the simplest solution to the problem that is, well, you,” he chuckled, gesturing to me. 

I narrowed my eyes. Cleaning up after me? “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“An answer for an answer,” he paused to think, “If you enjoy wasting time, is that time really wasted?” He drawled, letting his arms hang by his sides as he started to walk in my direction. That was such a strange question. I took a moment to think, but I really didn’t know. For each step he took forwards, I took one backward, my confidence diminishing by the second. I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be strangled again.

It wasn’t long until my back hit the wall and I opened my mouth to blurt out an answer, but in a flash, his hand was yet again clasped over my lips. “Too late.” He bent down to my height, his face hovering just a few inches in front of mine. His bangs had slid back, and in such proximity, I could see through to his eyes. They were a brilliant chartreuse color that almost seemed as if they glowed. I was momentarily stunned, lost in the beauty of the double-ringed irises. “Shh,” he hushed at me, moving his hand and replacing it with a single pointer finger, “Behave yourself and I will return shortly with food and water.” His finger traced my lips as he stepped back. Dazed, I sucked in a breath of air as his suffocating presence vanished, watching him turn and disappear out the door. 

I stood there, against the wall, for a few moments before coming back to my senses. Idiot, I thought to myself as I rushed to the door, grasping at the handle. Of course, it was locked, but it was worth a try. I spun and walked down the length of the wall, dragging my fingers against the cool surface as I went. When I reached the corner, I kicked it. Unenthusiastically. There wasn’t a reason behind my actions other than why the hell not. 

The kidnapper returned shortly after, carrying a tray. I leaned against the wall, watching as he set it down next to the lantern in the middle of the room. “You expect me to eat that?” I snarled, not even look at what was on it.

He stared back at me, appearing puzzled, “Well, yes, I wouldn’t want you dying on me,” he paused, answering my question before I could ask it, “You intrigue me.” 

Ok, new question, “Who the hell are you. And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You may call me Undertaker. As for the rest.. if you eat, I will tell you. Normally I would ask an answer for an answer, but I already know everything about you,” he gestured to the tray. I looked down uneasily, sitting on top of it was two slices of bread and a glass of water. Although it didn’t really matter what was there, I’d never been picky and would probably eat anything if I was hungry enough. 

Curiosity getting the better of me, I slowly walked towards the center of the room, sitting down in front of the tray with my legs crossed. I inspected the glass of water before lifting it to my lips, cautiously taking a small sip. Then I lowered it again. “Well?” I asked expectantly as he sat across from me on the opposite side of the tray. His left leg lay straight on the ground while the right was bent, supporting the corresponding arm. 

“You wish to know why I am curious about you, yes?” He spoke, bending at the elbow to idly play with a strand of his hair. 

“That was the deal,” I snapped. 

He nodded slowly, and the answer came fairly quickly, “It is quite simple. There aren’t many of your kind anymore, which makes you interesting enough,” he paused, his gaze shifting from his hair to meet my eyes, “But on top of that, for how powerful you could be, you’re so afraid. That is the intriguing factor.” His eyes then flickered down to the drink in my hand and I sighed, taking another sip. 

“What do you mean ‘my kind,’ and ‘anymore?’” I inquired, testing his knowledge. 

“Witches, of course. After the witch trials over in America, the population decreased significantly,” he hummed.

“And,” I added, “I’m not afraid. I distanced myself from magic to protect other people,” I huffed.

“Is that so? How did that work out for you?” He wasted nearly no time in his reply, tapping his temple in feigned concentration, “How many is it now, fifty-two?” 

I just rolled my eyes and drank again. Neither of us spoke, it appeared he was waiting on another question. “So, how did you know about the trials? And about me?” 

He didn’t reply immediately, taking his time to find the words, “You aren’t exactly careful about it, dear. As I said before, I’ve been cleaning up after you ever since the orphanage. 1881, I believe. In the following years, I watched some of the murders in action. It’s simple enough to put two and two together.”

“So you’ve been stalking me.”

He chuckled, “No. Although I am retired, boredom drove me to volunteer for the job of collecting the souls of the people you’ve killed. There was never a dull moment, they came in quite the steady stream a few years ago.”

I brought up my free hand to rub my head again, this just kept getting weirder by the second. Every answer he gave just raised more questions. He certainly didn’t look old, and then there was the whole soul thing. “Retired, how old are you? And what kind of job requires.. collecting souls?” The words felt strange on my tongue. 

The Undertaker chuckled again and rose to his feet, starting towards the door, “I’ll leave you for now. Eat up.”

An expression of utter confusion was no doubt planted on my face as he disappeared out the door again. I sat there on the floor for a few minutes, thinking about what just happened while finishing the last of the bread. Then I drank the rest of the water before standing up and walking back to my corner. Flopping down onto the blanket, I stared at the ceiling, still pondering the conversation with the Undertaker. It was all so strange. To sum it up, he knew about what I was, he’d been following me around for the past ten years, and I knew nothing about him other than that he’s retired and he collected souls. Whatever the hell that meant. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and fell backward, curling into a ball on my side. Then I drifted off to sleep while thinking about my life choices.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one’s a bit longer, enjoy

Surprisingly enough, I slept like a rock despite the cold temperatures and uncomfortable floor. I sat up and looked around. The room remained the same as it was yesterday, except now there was something new laying next to the lantern. I got up and walked over to the center of the room before kneeling next to it. While inspecting it carefully, I noticed there was a note on top, containing only two words:

Get dressed.

I’d probably end up ignoring the instructions, taking orders wasn’t my strong suit. I placed the note on the ground to the side and looked at what lay underneath. It appeared to be a fresh dress to replace the one I’d been wearing for.. however long I’d been stuck in the room. I wasn’t exactly sure. 

As it unfolded, I observed the new clothes. There appeared to be a white blouse with sleeves that would run halfway down my arm, accompanied by a long dark burgundy skirt. The outfit would be tied together by a long black sash, which would lie at my waist and tie in a large bow behind my back. I got dressed with nearly no hesitation, taking back my earlier statement. I was eager to change into new, fresh, clean clothes. They fit surprisingly well, although the skirt was a little bit long, I could deal with that. I adjusted my hair, bringing strands to rest over my shoulders, framing my face. I frowned when I noticed most of the curls had fallen out.

Right on time, the door opened. Still messing with my hair, I mindlessly spoke without turning to face in the direction of the door, “Do you happen to have a curling iron?” Instantly, my hand shot to my mouth in embarrassment as I turned to face him. The words shocked even me. I just asked my kidnapper if he had a curling iron. Yikes. 

The Undertaker nearly doubled over. “Someone needs.. to get.. their priorities straight,” he said in between fits of laughter. He kept going for what felt like ages, I thought he might never stop. 

“Shut up already!” I hissed, crossing my arms, searching for something to change the subject. My eyes landed on a cup that he was holding, “What is that?” I gestured to it. 

Still snickering, he straightened back up took a few steps in my direction before holding the cup out in front of me, “Drink.”

I looked down at it. It was a dark red liquid, just lighter than the color of my skirt. I narrowed my eyes at it and looked back up at him, “Pass.”

The playful expression fell from his features as he reached towards me. I ducked backward, putting a bit more space in between us. He exhaled sharply, “Don’t be difficult. You’ll drink it, voluntary or not. It’s up to you,” his patience starting to running thin. 

Water was one thing, but strange red liquids was another. No way was I about to swallow something like that without knowing what it is. Unfolding my arms, I shifted backward away from him as I shook my head. 

He raised his hand to rub his forehead. He almost seemed tired, like he didn’t want to deal with my bullshit. It was probably an accurate assessment, but there were just too many unknowns for me to willingly oblige. He took a menacing step forwards, irritation reflected in his chartreuse eyes before a new expression took over. “Alright. If you can evade me for one minute, I won’t make you drink it,” he said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He moved to the middle of the room and put the cup down, next to the lantern. 

“Game on,” I hissed, wasting no time in my reply. I felt fairly confident in my abilities, just one minute of dodging should be a breeze.

Almost immediately, he rushed forwards, cutting my train of thought short. His fist aimed for my upper right arm. I jumped to the left, landing on my toes and retreating backward. I felt a brush of wind next to my arm from the force of the punch. That was a bit worrying, I hoped he wasn’t trying to actually hurt me. 

In a flash, he was in front of me again. Fifteen seconds. I ducked, sliding behind him before flipping back onto my feet to avoid an anticipated kick. It didn’t come, but better safe than sorry. My dress flapped about distractingly, and I didn’t appreciate how it restricted my movements. We paused for a moment before he spun around to face me. Twenty-five seconds. 

He lunged forwards and I mimicked his motions in the opposite direction, pushing backward off my toes. I kept an eye out for the quickly approaching wall, and just before I would run into it I rolled to the left. I was preparing to spring forwards when the Undertaker appeared in front of me, blocking my path. Forty seconds. 

I scrambled to change direction, almost succeeding until I felt him grasp my hair. I winced. The hair, really? That was a low blow. I was pulled back towards him, uncomfortably mind you. I tried to swing one of my arms around to hit him, this wasn’t over yet. To my surprise, he freed my hair in favor of grabbing hold of my wrist that was conveniently flying towards him. He pulled, yanking me off balance and I stumbled into him. We stood close, his face only a few inches from mine. His other hand held my chin, tilting my head up. His breath was hot on my face as he whispered, “I win.”

I was the first to pull away, “Fine, whatever,” I muttered, shaking myself out of his grasp and walking to the center of the room. Bending down to pick up the cup, I then turned around to face him. My eyes drifted down to the crimson liquid before looking back up at him, “What is it?”

His voice softened, “Please just drink it. It isn’t harmful, I promise.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like that means anything to me,” I muttered under my breath. Here goes nothing. I raised the cup to my lips, gulping it down as quickly as I could, trying not to taste it. That failed. It was bitter, and my nose scrunched in disgust. “Happy now?”

“I didn’t think you would drink it,” The Undertaker hummed, resting his cheek in his palm. 

“I keep my word,” I muttered, “But Lord, that was disgusting! What on earth was in it?” I exclaimed, promptly dropping the cup on the floor. 

“A large portion of it was made from the berries of a rowan tree,” he offered, elaborating when my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “It neutralizes a witch’s magical ability until the substance passes out of your system.”

My eyes narrowed, for a moment, I didn’t know what to think. I had never known such a thing existed, and idly I wondered how many people would still be alive had I been drinking this stuff before. Even so, I felt mixed emotions about it. I almost felt betrayed, despite my previous actions, magic had been my lifeline more times than not. I felt strangely defenseless without it. I held out my hand in front of my face, curling my fingers in and out as I wrapped my head around the idea. Powerless. Vulnerable. Safe. Almost like a regular human. 

My eyes flickered back up to meet his yellow-green gaze. He stood still, seeming to gauge my reaction. Minutes passed, neither of us wanting to break the silence. Then he held out his hand, “Come. We’re going out.”

Yet another surprise, definitely didn’t see that one coming. “O-out?” I stammered, at a sudden loss for words. A feeling of hope settled over me, this could be my chance to escape. 

“Yes, unless of course, you would rather remain here,” he grinned. I hated his guts. 

I didn’t speak, just smoothed down my hair as I walked towards him. Planting my palm in his outstretched hand, I followed him to the door. He twisted the handle, pulling it in and leaving it ajar. Outside of the room lay a staircase which I climbed hurriedly, pushing past another door at the top. The room it entered into was of fair size. It was dimly lit, and coffins of all shapes and sizes were scattered about. The doorway we stood in appeared to be in the back left corner, and to my right, there was another door along this same wall. A desk and chair rested in the back-center of the room. It appeared to be a funeral parlor. 

Then my eyes shifted to the front door and I inhaled sharply. That was it, all I had to do was make it outside. I could scream for help and get away from this creep. The Undertaker’s voice behind me startled me out of my thoughts. “I hope you aren’t thinking about running,” he murmured, leading me further into the room and picking up his hat off of a shelf. 

I glanced at him uneasily, weighing my choices. Making a run for it now wouldn’t end well, lying probably wouldn’t either. If I could just make it outside, maybe someone out there could help me. “And if I was?” I inquired. 

He looked down at me before shaking his bangs over his eyes and placing the hat atop his head. “Know that it would not be in your best interest. If our little game earlier was any indication, I believe I could catch you with ease,” he chuckled. 

What an absolute prick. While he had a point, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try, who knew the next time I’d get such an opportunity. As the door leading outside opened, I shifted into a more proper walking position, adjusting my fingers to hold his left arm at the crook of his elbow. As my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, I took in my new surroundings, not recognizing the area. We had exited onto a street lined with buildings on both sides, nothing particularly spectacular. 

Upon exiting the funeral parlor, we turned right, walking along the sidewalk for quite some time. It was midday, and there were many other couples out and about. We walked a few blocks until eventually, I became a bit impatient, “Where are we going?” 

He gazed down at me, his reply short, “Just a little bit further.” 

Almost as if on command, we rounded another corner, coming to face a clearing. Four paths split the grassy area into quarters, meeting at a large tree in the center. A bench in each of the four sectors tied it together. I looked up at the Undertaker, my gaze questioning. “Yes, this is our destination. Come,” he spoke, moving towards the shade of the tree, “Now, close your eyes and-“

“Excuse me?” I cut him off. Like hell that was going to happen. 

He sighed. “Please, dear, trust me.”

I laughed humorlessly, “Is that supposed to be a joke? Trust the man who kidnapped me?” I snapped angrily, yanking my arm away from him.

“Believe me, this is better than what would have befallen you had I not stepped in. Now shut them,” He hissed back at me. 

“Then tell me what would have happened,” I demanded.

“If you comply, I will tell you all.”

And I was the difficult one. I thought about this for a few moments, my mind drifting back to the first conversation we had. “Fine,” I shut my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest, “What now?”

“Focus on the wind. Feel the way it moves, it’s patterns. Then I want you to imagine it gradually growing stronger.”

I opened my eyes again, staring at him incredulously. “I can’t. I can’t control it,” I paused, “Plus I drank your stupid potion, I couldn’t do magic even if I wanted to.”

“That is where you’re wrong, dear. I ask once again, please trust me. I will be here to help you.” The Undertaker’s gaze softened as he pulled me backward into him. His arms rested over my shoulders, his head laid atop mine. It was a strangely comfortable position, it almost felt safe.

I swallowed, letting my arms hang by my sides and shutting my eyes again. I did as he asked, feeling the gentle breeze sweep across my face. His hair, partially draped over my shoulder, tickled my cheek. I exhaled slowly, relaxing my muscles as I imagined the wind picking up speed. It did not, which was mildly frustrating. Never had magic not worked when I wanted it to, this was probably a result of the rowan drink.

I huffed and pressed my eyes together more firmly. I imagined more violent winds, perhaps if I overdid it in my head, it would produce the appropriate response. This time, for good measure, I whispered a single, almost inaudible word, “Ventus.”

I didn’t expect the unrelenting blast of wind that abruptly hit me in the face. Stumbling backward further into the Undertaker, I turned into him, burying my head in his shoulder. Tears threatened to spill out in fear of the possible destruction I could cause. He acted quickly, flipping us around so that he stood as a barrier between myself and the wind. “Shh, shh it’s alright,” he soothed while running his fingers through my hair, petting my head. “Calm your breathing, relax,” he whispered, his other arm wrapped around me comfortingly, resting on the small of my back. I focused on the steady rising and falling of his chest, trying to match my breathing to his. We stood there for an eternity, my face buried in his robes, and his arms wrapped around me as I tried to calm back down. 

“Do you feel ready to try again?” He murmured after a while, shifting to look down at me. I clung to him for just a few more moments before slowly nodding my head, not making eye contact as I pulled away from him. I turned back to face in the opposite direction of the tree, as I had before. Shutting my eyes, I took deliberately deep breaths as I envisioned my surroundings. I tried to clear my mind of distractions, the only thing that mattered right now was the task at hand. My hair being gently blown out of my face, the grass swaying, and the leaves of the tree dancing. 

Slowly, I opened my eyes, looking up at the tree’s leaves. Sure enough, they were quivering just as I had imagined. I turned my attention back to the earth, holding out my hand palm down. Just barely pulling my pointer finger upwards, I smiled when the wind’s force increased, just by a bit. I glanced over at the Undertaker before lifting my finger again, sharply this time. I giggled as he fought his hair, trying to free his face. 

Then I ran.


	5. Chapter 5

I ran. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to. 

Holding my dark burgundy skirt up a few inches made for easier movement, and I couldn’t care less about the looks I received as I sprinted down the streets. I had no idea where I was going, and frankly, I didn’t bother to stop and ask. As long as I was putting distance between myself and the Undertaker, that’s all that mattered. 

Block after block I ran, not stopping until my side began to ache, at which point I ducked into an alleyway. I kneeled between a dumpster and some crates, attempting to catch my breath. My back was pressed up against the wall, providing only a slight sense of safety. 

Before long I stood back up, exiting my hiding spot peering around the corner onto the street. Thankfully there was no sign of the Undertaker. As I went to take another running step forward, a new voice caused me to freeze in my tracks, “My my, look at what we have here.” It sounded feminine, but I wasn’t entirely sure. I whirled around, searching for the owner of the voice. My eyes scanned every visible part of the alley, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it spoke again, “Up here, dear.”

My eyes flew upwards to spot a figure sitting atop the roof in front of me. They sat with their legs dangling off the edge and arms by their sides. They uncrossed their legs and stood up, their bright red hair blowing in the wind. 

“Hello?” I called nervously, flinching as they jumped from the rooftop and landed a couple of feet in front of me. They did not advance, so I took the opportunity to observe them. Probably the most distinguishable feature about this person was their pointed teeth. Weird. They were dressed in red the same shade as their hair and wore high heels. My next observation caused me to step backward. Their eyes. Beneath their spectacles, their eyes were a brilliant glowing yellow-green, the same as the Undertaker’s. My eyes widened and my breathing quickened. I wasted no more time and spun, starting to run yet again. 

I hardly got ten steps before the redhead was in front of me again, now holding a crimson chainsaw in their hands, “And where do you think you’re going?” It roared to life as they leaped forwards, charging at almost inhuman speeds. I was only able to narrowly escape the blow, and I felt a gust of wind against my shoulder as they flew past me. Terror settled over me and adrenaline flooded through my veins as I realized this was truly a life or death situation. I heard the chainsaw rev again somewhere behind me. In what was probably a momentary lapse of judgment, I shut my eyes and gave over to the darkness in my head. Odds were I would likely regret this choice sometime in the future. But I had weighed my options, and if this was the only way I would live to see another day, then so be it. 

It was almost like flipping a switch - my fear disappeared along with other emotions, replaced by the primal need to survive and that survival alone. Color faded from my vision, replaced with simple black and white. I turned to face my attacker, just the change in my expression was enough to make them pause. Smiling sweetly, I shifted my eyes towards a wooden crate that laid along one of the walls. I raised my hand out in front of me, facing my palm towards the box before aiming at the other person. To my satisfaction, the crate flew through the air towards the redhead, crashing into the opposite wall as they dodged.

Something metal clanged against the floor as the wood shattered. A knife. We spotted it at the same time, and my attacker lunged for it, but I was faster. “Motus,” I spoke clearly, and the knife flew and landed in my outstretched palm. “Have you ever seen a levitation trick before? Street magic is so much fun,” I hummed out loud before whispering two quiet words. The knife hovered above my palm and their eyes narrowed. 

Then I suddenly straightened my arm, sending it flying. It connected with their arm, leaving a splatter of blood on the ground as they moved in attempts to dodge my attack. I took the opportunity to put a barrier between myself and them, “Incendia.” On command, fire rose from the blood on the ground. Unfortunately, my attacker seemed unfazed as they took a running start and began to leap over the wall of fire, to which I responded by thrusting my arm above my head. Subsequently, the fire shot upwards, catching them mid-jump. They changed their course, landing on top of the roof again instead. 

My eyes narrowed, they appeared relatively unharmed, so why were they backing off? I got my answer as a familiar voice sounded behind me, “Grell. I suggest you take your leave now.” The Undertaker. 

My attacker, who I now knew to be called Grell, just pouted. “Undertaker! You are no fun,” they whined. Then their eyes shifted back to me, “This isn’t over. Until next time, little witch!” They exclaimed, retreating over the top of the building. What a strange character.

I was not granted a moment of peace; the feeling of a hand on my forearm caused me to whirl around. Although the Undertaker towered over me, my expression remained cold. I did not speak as I ripped my arm from his grasp, my eyes boring challengingly into his. In a flash his arm was around my waist, pulling me into him while his other hand rested around my shoulders. He held me up against his chest despite my struggling, “Shh,” he hushed at me, laying his cheek atop my head. “Valerie,” he murmured, “Come back to me.” 

I stilled. Valerie; my name. This feeling; protected. Him; safe. I took a shaky breath in as my mind slowly became my own again. The fear, the anger, the sadness, it all came flooding back at once. I barely recognized the color returning to my vision with my face buried in his dark robes. “Undertaker?” I whispered as I clung to him. 

“I am here,” he replied, rubbing his hand comfortingly across my shoulders. I closed my eyes as a tear slipped down my cheek, relaxing into him. His hand moved from my shoulders to my head, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear before moving down to my jaw. His fingers rested on my neck, thumb slowly rubbing across my cheek, wiping my tear away. 

A loud crash behind me caused me to flinch. I looked up at him, my blue eyes meeting his chartreuse ones. “I want to see,” I whispered.

“Are you sure?” He asked, concern in his eyes. I just nodded my head once and he reluctantly let me go, watching as I observed the scene before us. 

My eyes widened as fire quite literally reflected in them. As I began to realize what had happened, I stepped back, bringing my hands up to my face. The buildings before us were completely engulfed in flames. I stared in horror as another wooden board fell, shattering against the floor. How many more deaths had I just caused? It was my fault. I did this. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t breathe. 

If the Undertaker had said anything, I didn’t register it. Then he scooped me up bridal style, with no objection from me. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, followed by another and another until they were free falling. I moved his hair out of the way and rested my head upon his shoulder, my expression blank. I drifted off into a deep sleep in his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

White. White was all I could see as I opened my eyes. Blinking a few times to help them adjust, I looked up to see that I stood in the middle of an endless field. The grass was bleached by the falling snow, and the temperature was a perfect neutral, neither hot nor cold. 

I held out my hand to catch a snowflake, silly childishness taking over me. As I looked down at my prize, my happy expression promptly fell from my face. I watched in horror as the snowflake in my palm turned black. It burned, and I frantically shook it out of my hand. I looked up, only to see that the snow that had previously been falling from the sky had been replaced with ash. I glanced around in a panic, watching as the fire rose from the ground on the horizon and the white grass turned blood red. I fell to my knees. 

A woman dressed in black stood about five yards away from me. She watched me, her face expressionless. Her features very closely resembled mine, if I didn’t know better she could have been my twin. What set her apart from me, however, were her eyes. They were pitch black, lacking any white or color, like bottomless pits of darkness. She approached silently, stopping right in front of me and holding her hand out. I looked up at her, shaking my head as I scrambled backward. She scowled and lunged at me, her hands on my throat, suffocating me as the flames engulfed us. 

I screamed. Leaping to my feet, I frantically tried to look around at my surroundings. It was dark, I couldn’t see. My breathing accelerated, where was I? Was she here? A hand on my shoulder caused me to jump. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” I shrieked, stumbling backward away from the sudden contact. Disoriented, I hit a wall with a loud thump.

“Valerie, please, calm down,” a voice spoke from within the darkness and I shied away further. 

“Where am I? Who are you, how do you know my name?” I whispered shakily, my mind still not functioning properly. 

“It’s me, The Undertaker. We are inside my house, you fell asleep on the way here,” the voice paused tiredly as he stepped closer, continuing when I did not reply, “It was just a nightmare. Come here, let us go back to sleep. I will protect you.”

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders, leading me through a door and into a different room. I followed absentmindedly, obeying when he motioned for me to lay down. Pulling the covers back, he crawled into the other side of the bed. Even under the sheets, it was cold, and I shifted closer to him in search of comfort. I exhaled in relief when I felt his arm wrap around me, pulling me into him almost protectively. His breath was warm across my ear and his hair draped across my shoulder. I closed my eyes, letting his warmth ease me into a peaceful and dreamless sleep. 

I woke up confused yet again, laying in a large bed sporting a black comforter and white sheets. On the opposite side of the bed was a nightstand, and in the corner next to the door on my side was a closet. As I stood up, I noticed I was no longer wearing the white and red dress but was now dressed in oversized black robes. Belonging to the Undertaker, if I had to guess. I walked towards the door, the wooden floor cold against my bare feet. I pulled it open and entered the next room, which appeared to be some sort of common room. In the middle was a table and a couch. Both across the room and to my right stood doors, I wasn’t sure which one to pick until I heard the characteristic shrill of a tea kettle. I walked between the couch and the table and pushed the far door open just a bit, peeking around it. 

The Undertaker stood with his back towards me on the opposite side of what appeared to be a kitchen, tending to a pot of tea. I had hardly been there thirty seconds before he spoke without turning around, “You can come in.”

I crossed my arms as I stepped inside, leaving the door open behind me. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” I demanded immediately, putting on a serious face, “Let’s start with how I ended up in your bed wearing your clothes.”

He looked over his shoulder at me, gesturing at the small round table to my left, “Sit, the tea will be done shortly.”

While I didn’t like him evading the question, I obliged, pulling out a chair and sitting down. I placed my elbows on the table and rested my chin in my hands. “Answers,” I said tiredly. 

“You had a nightmare,” he shrugged while pouring two cups of tea, “As for your clothes, they were dirty from last night’s.. events. But I’m sure you have more pressing questions, am I wrong?”

I rolled my eyes, “Actually, you’re right. Let’s talk about you,” I gestured at him, getting right to the point, “What are you? What was your old job, and how old are you?”

He sighed, turning to face me. His chartreuse eyes locked with mine as he spoke, “I am a grim reaper. As for my age, I’m nearing the 600s I believe. It’s easy to lose track if you can imagine,” he waved his hand dismissively.

I stared at him blankly. “I can’t believe that. Grim reapers are a myth, they don’t exist.”

”In a world where things like you exist? It shouldn’t be too farfetched,” he murmured, sighing when my expression of doubt remained. 

He pushed back in his chair and stood, holding his hand out to the side. My eyes widened as a soft green glow began at the center of his hand, quickly growing into a blinding green-white light illuminating the entirety of the room. Sudden strong winds pushed my hair into my face, and I stood up, raising my arm to shield my eyes from the light. 

When the wind quieted down I lowered my arm, shocked at the sight before me. The Undertaker stood with a scythe in his hand, outfitted with a skeleton leading into a long curved blade. His hair laid across his shoulder in a disheveled manner, probably as a result of the wind. My own hair probably wasn’t much better. He propped the scythe up against the table, “Do you believe me now?”

Ah, yes, fantastic. My kidnapper was actually a bloody grim reaper. It was a difficult concept to wrap my head around, even after I’d seen the proof. “And what about Grell?” I inquired, recalling their similar-looking eyes and seemingly inhuman abilities. And now that I thought about it, the chainsaw that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. 

“Grell is also a grim reaper. They, along with a few others, are part of the Retrieval Division of the reaper society, known as the Grim Reaper Dispatch,” he answered easily, sitting in the chair across from mine. He slid one of the teacups over the table to me.

I took hold of the cup as I questioned him again, “How many reapers are there?”

“Let's see.. there are five divisions: Management, Retrieval, Personnel, Administrative, and Forensics. Their purposes are all relatively self-explanatory. Then multiple branches correspond to different parts of the world and, well, you can do the math.“

His emerald gaze prompted my next question, “Ok.. what’s with the eyes?” I paused before elaborating, “Are all reaper’s eyes like yours and Grell’s?”

“That is correct,” he twirled a strand of white hair around his finger, “All reapers can be easily characterized by our yellow-green phosphorescent eyes.”

I nodded slowly as I raised the teacup to my lips. “Why was Grell trying to kill me? And why did you help me?”

He chuckled, “Because you, my dear, have been identified as a threat. You have the ability to interfere with the to-die list, and that causes problems for the reapers. Grell was sent to eliminate you on behalf of Dispatch,” he paused before answering the second part of my question, “I left many years ago and am no longer affiliated with them. As I mentioned the first time we spoke, I find you interesting, hence why I have been trying to help you. Although you have not made it an easy task.” The last part was barely audible, prompting an eye roll from me. 

Much like our first conversation, each answer he gave just raised more questions. “What is a to-die list? How can I ‘interfere’ with it? And, why did helping me have to involve kidnapping, you could’ve just said all this upfront,” I muttered grumpily. 

He chuckled, “Would you have listened?”

As much I hated to say it, he was right. “Probably not,” I admitted, I’d always been the stubborn type. 

“I thought as much,” he paused again, “The to-die list is the list of souls that need to be collected, stating the details about each dying human. A reaper’s job is to examine the memories of a person and decide whether they should live or die. The way you interfere with that system is truly problematic, but if you can learn to control your magic, it shouldn’t be a problem anymore,” he elaborated when my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Because you are considered neither human nor divine, you are not in any type of record, and magic is still a widely unresearched topic. It’s unknown why the dates and times of deaths caused by magic don’t appear in the to-die list, so the easiest solution is to simply eliminate the problem.”

I rubbed my head, that was a lot to take in. I was left speechless for a few minutes as I thought over what had been said. “So,” I started slowly, “What you’re saying is that, unless I can learn to control it, they’ll always be after me?”

“That is correct,” he murmured sadly, “Although even then, given your track record, odds are they won’t relent until you’re dead.” My eyes widened and he rushed to continue before I could speak, ”I implore you, stay here with me. I can protect you, no one will lay a finger on you as long as I’m here.” He outstretched his hand above the center of the table, palm up. “Allow me,” he whispered, almost pleadingly. 

I searched his eyes, considering the request and weighing my options. Grell alone had been difficult enough, if there were as many as he said there were I might not be able to fight them off. Having a reaper on my side might not be a bad idea. Setting the teacup down, I reached forwards and placed my palm in his.

“Yes.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Focus!” 

“Would you like to try?” I hissed in frustration, opening my eyes to another dark mark on the floor. I had let him convince me to practice magic again, but we were already a week in and all it had amounted to were black scorch marks staining the white floor of the basement. I turned to him, “This isn’t working. How am I supposed to just know how much energy to use?” I exclaimed, bringing a hand up to rub my forehead. 

He paused, muttering something to himself, so quietly I was unable to hear. The he looked at me and spoke again, “Yes, perhaps you are right. Maybe you need to see just how far you can go. We’re going out again, meet me inside the parlor in five.”

His sudden decision left me confused for a moment. Soon it registered, I smoothed down my hair and followed him up the stairs. The man really gave me whiplash at times, first he wanted me to stay inside but now he wanted to go out. I wondered what was next.

When I reached the top he was already dressed in his usual attire. The hat was missing, however his hair was still in place over his eyes. He held out his arm as he pushed the door open. Taking my position at his side as we exited onto the street, I looked up at him, “Why do you hide your eyes?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, although he regained composure quickly. “They are a dead giveaway. Anyone who knew what they were looking for would notice immediately.” Before I could ask why it mattered, he continued darkly, “There are some parts of my past I would not like to revisit.”

I took the hint and remained quiet for the rest of the walk. We ended up on a secluded hill not too far out of town, but just enough that people didn’t usually stop by. “Let me guess, wind?” I inquired.

The Undertaker nodded, “Just let it all go. Pour all of your energy into it, and don’t be afraid. I will be here to help if anything is to happen.”

I looked up to the sky. I had a vague idea of what was to come, and thankfully it was already a relatively cloudy day. Maybe it wouldn’t look so incredibly out of place. 

Bringing both hands out to the side palms up, I pictured the energy. It was smooth and flowing, almost like a river, throughout my body centering in my hands before releasing into the air. I kept my eyes open this time, and a strand of my hair fell across my face while the rest was blown back. The clouds quickly darkened, thunder shaking the earth. 

My heartbeat quickened as I felt the familiar darkness in my head push forwards, my vision rapidly flickering between colors and black and white. I narrowed my eyes, blinking in attempts to clear my vision. Then a pair of arms wrapped around my abdomen from behind, breath hot in my ear as he whispered, “Focus.”

“You’re distracting me,” I hissed quietly, bringing my hands down to grip his. I shut my eyes, again visualizing the flow of energy. Trickling from his hands into mine, bits of his strength were temporarily added to my power. Channeling, I believe it was called. 

As my eyes opened, lightning ripped through the sky and it started raining. In seconds I could feel it seeping through my clothes, but I didn’t care. I laughed happily, spinning myself around in his arms to face him, resting my hands on his chest. 

The pouring rain was quickly tuned out as he moved to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear, his chartreuse gaze meeting mine. I felt my heart jump as his hand rested on my neck, fingers lightly pulling me upwards. Almost instinctively, to help accommodate for the height difference, I stood on my toes as he came down. The smell of him was hypnotic, I could hardly think as his lips pressed softly against mine. He was gentle and undemanding in comparison to what I had experienced before, and my knees suddenly felt weak. His hair brushed against the sides of my face as all my worries faded away. In that moment I decided that if all my life choices led to this, then I had absolutely no regrets. Just as I needed to take a breath, he pulled back for a moment, gauging my reaction. Then he smirked, “Your heart is beating rather quickly.”

“Shut up,” I whispered, snaking one of my arms behind his neck and pulling him back down. He didn’t. Awkward. Heat crept to my cheeks as I looked at him in confusion, my eyes questioning. 

“We shouldn’t stay out in this weather for long, you wouldn’t want to catch a cold,” he murmured as his thumb swept softly across my cheek, “Mortals are so fragile.” Before I had a chance to retort, he scooped me up bridal style and started walking. I squeaked in surprise, and he chuckled, “Cute.”

“Put me down!” I hissed, flustered. Internally I cursed my voice, it hadn’t sounded nearly as firm as I wanted it to. 

“Why?” 

I fumbled for a second, that wasn’t the reply I was expecting. “It’s embarrassing,” was the best I could do. 

A stand of his hair fell across my chest as he looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. “Most would call it sweet— ow!” I had pulled it. “Romantic, even,” he finished lowly. Then he sighed, “So ungrateful.. perhaps I should put you down.”

Suddenly my support disappeared out from under me and I was falling. I squealed in surprise, and he caught me just as quickly as he had let go. Feeling betrayed, I looked up at him only to be greeted by a wide grin. “Prick,” I muttered under my breath, leaning my head against his shoulder. This was clearly a fight I wasn’t going to win. 

He just smiled, and we were silent for the rest of the walk back. By the time we reached the entrance of the parlor, we were both thoroughly soaked and shivering. Well, I was shivering. He wasn’t, a perk of being immortal I suppose. 

Pushing the door open, he gently set me back down on my feet and I stepped inside. Greeted by warm air, I let out a sigh of relief. Then I looked up and stopped in my tracks. Standing in the middle of the room was a dark-haired boy accompanied by a man. The boy wore an eyepatch over his right eye, however the left was a beautiful blue. He was dressed well, I assumed he probably came from a noble family. The man, likely the boy’s butler, was dressed in black and had crimson red eyes.

I looked back at the Undertaker uneasily. He stood behind me, speaking quietly, “Go upstairs and get warm. My robes are in the closet, if you’d like.” 

I just nodded and hurried past the two strange people, pushing through the door leading up the stairs. Wasting no time, I quickly dried off and changed into one of his robes as suggested. They were soft and comfortable, although extremely oversized for me and I had to hold them up as I walked. Stepping silently, a skill I had picked up somewhere in the past few years, I crept back down the stairs. My ear pressed up against the door, I strained to listen in on the conversation. 

A familiar voice reached my ears, the Undertaker. I couldn’t make out what he was saying until a new voice sounded, presumably belonging to the boy. I only caught bits and pieces of his sentence, “Queen...Disappearances...Criminal...Recognize...Person.” 

The sound of a paper shuffling, and then nothing. A loud knock in my ear caused me to jump backwards, sending my heart pounding. On the other side of the door, I heard the Undertaker giggle, “You can come out.”

I looked down as I slid past the door, heat creeping to my cheeks in embarrassment. The Undertaker rested one of his hands on my back as he gestured to the two strangers with the other. “Valerie, I’d like you to meet the Earl Phantomhive and his butler, Sebastian. They are here on a mission from the Queen, investigating another disappearance.” 

Then the boy held a sheet of paper with a picture of a woman in my direction. “Do you recognize this woman?” He questioned, his eyes colder than I thought a child’s could ever be. 

I looked back down at the picture and froze. Those dark eyes, the long brown hair. It was unmistakable, this was the woman I had most recently killed. I felt my heart beat faster, although I tried to maintain my external composure. Fighting the urge to swallow, I answered in a relatively level tone, “No, I’m sorry.”

I broke eye contact with the earl to look at the butler, whose red eyes were boring into me. Startled by the sudden hostility, I subconsciously shifted further back into the Undertaker. The room was tense until the deafening silence was eventually broken by the earl as he started walking towards the door. “If you find anything out, let me know. I’ll be in touch.” Then the butler, Sebastian, gave a quick bow towards myself and the Undertaker before disappearing out the door and shutting it behind himself. 

Letting out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, I relaxed my muscles. Moving his hand from my back towards my head, I felt his finger twirl a strand of my hair. “You’re a good liar. Not good enough however, your heart gives you away,” he murmured sadly. 

Turning to face him, my eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “How so?”

He cocked his head ever so slightly to the side, the change barely noticeable. “An answer for an answer. Have you the slightest idea how appealing you look in my robes?” He drawled lowly. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as his finger unwound itself from my hair and moved to my chin, tilting my head up. “There goes your heart again... do I make you nervous?” 

Flustered, I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. It was impossible to think with him so close. He leaned forwards and I closed my eyes, anticipating the feel of his lips against mine. It did not come. My eyes opened again to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a smile.

I just rolled my eyes, looking off to the side. “You enjoy embarrassing me, don’t you.”

He giggled. “Of course I do. You are so much fun.”

And then he was gone. Having taken a few steps backwards, he leaned against the table as he answered my question from earlier as if nothing happened. “Sebastian is not human. He has extraordinary senses just as I do, which is how he knows you were lying.”

Not human? Talk about vague. I slowly rubbed my forehead, regaining my senses. “Is he a reaper too?” A second passed and I realized the mistake almost as soon as the words left my mouth, it wasn’t possible. Sebastian’s eyes were red, not green. Hurriedly, I rushed to correct myself. “I mean,” I paused, words failing me, “If he’s not a reaper, what is he?” It was the best I could do. 

The Undertaker hesitated in answering. “A demon,” he started slowly, “Until the day he consumes Ciel’s soul, he is a faithful servant.” My eyes widened a bit, there was really a lot I didn’t know. It sounded insane, but if the Undertaker was really a grim reaper, then surely a demon wasn’t too farfetched. “No doubt we’ll be seeing them again soon,” he hummed, “We’ll continue your training tomorrow. For now, let us go upstairs and relax.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one jumps around a bit, took a little break and am trying to get back into it. Updates will be slowing down (not discontinued, I intend to finish this) as writing is starting to feel like a chore. I’ll be updating whenever motivation hits.

As the door shut, I turned back around to find the Undertaker removing his shirt. My eyes widened and I quickly looked down at the ground. After shedding the wet robes on the ground, he plopped down onto the couch. Then he giggled and gestured to the seat next to him, “Don’t be shy. Come sit down.”

I hesitated but ended up obeying, although my eyes remained cast downward. I sat stiffly with my legs crossed, unsure what to do with myself. I yelped in surprise when his arms wrapped around me, yanking me into him. He held me to his chest, fingers searching for ticklish spots. “Loosen up,” he chuckled as I squirmed when he reached my side. 

“Stop it!” I squealed in between laughs, struggling against his grasp. In a flash, he flipped us, landing me underneath him. His hair created a tunnel leading straight to his bright chartreuse eyes, making everything else seem dark and unimportant. The smile never left my expression as he lowered himself, gently pressing his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms behind his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair and holding him close to me. 

It escalated from there. His gentleness slowly faded away as the kiss heated up, tongue swiping into my mouth to explore. My lungs started to burn and I tried to pull away, but to no avail. In a mild panic I removed my hands from his hair and pushed against his shoulders, desperate for air. He finally lifted and I gasped, attempting to catch my breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his expression soft, “It’s easy to forget that you need to breathe.” He leaned back, giving me room to sit up. 

Then an idea crossed my mind and I grinned. I sprung into him, tackling him onto his back. Laying on his bare chest, I pecked his lips just for a second. “Tag!” I giggled before leaping up off of the couch and sprinting towards the kitchen. I heard the couch scoot against the floor as he stood up, and I threw the door open and shut it quickly behind me.

In a matter of seconds, he crashed through it behind me. Literally. Took the door off it’s hinges. My eyes widened and I ducked behind him as he charged at me, fleeing back out the broken door and through the common room. Flinging open the opposite door, I left it open this time. I heard his footsteps grow closer, and then a hand around my wrist. I was shoved into the wall, his arms on either side of my head and his face just inches from mine. My heart fluttered as his lips met mine. He broke after a second but remained close. “Tag.” He whispered, his breath hot on my face. 

~

I slowly started to wake up, pressing my eyes closed and groaning tiredly as I repositioned myself in attempts to get comfortable. As I began to drift off again, a pair of long arms wrapped around me, dragging me across the bed. I squealed in surprise, pulling away from the sudden pressure as the Undertaker pulled me into his torso. To no avail of course, he was many times stronger than me. “Good morning,” his breath was warm across my ear as he rasped, his early-morning voice huskier than usual. His lips shifted downwards, planting soft kisses along my neck, earning an involuntary shudder from me. He leaned back to speak, “Ready to try your hand at magic again?”

I just flipped myself around and pressed my face into his chest as I groaned tiredly, “Not particularly.” 

He rested his head atop mine as his fingers combed gently through my hair. “Alright then, a few more minutes.” I just nodded in response, curling into his warmth and letting my eyes shut again.

My reawakening felt almost instantaneous, and I grumbled incomprehensibly as the Undertaker pulled me out of bed. “I thought you said a few more minutes,” I said grumpily, rubbing my eyes. 

He just smiled. “It’s been two hours. There’s a new dress in the next room on the table.” 

I rolled my eyes and pushed past the door, leaving it open behind me. Still half asleep, my movements were zombie-like and my mind felt empty. Sure enough, there was a blue and black dress folded on the table. I observed it before stepping into it, it was a shade of cobalt blue in the middle, fading into a midnight color at the top and bottom, with thin straps forming an x across my chest. I didn’t bother with my hair and flopped down onto the couch. 

When the Undertaker stepped out of the bedroom, he paused. “You’re usually so adamant about keeping your hair perfect, are you not feeling well? Come with me.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer, taking my hands and pulling me to my feet. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me back through the bedroom and into the bathroom. He pulled up a stool in front of the mirror and gestured for me to sit down, to which I obliged. He picked up a brush and started combing through my hair, neither of us speaking. He was gentle, only once did he pull too hard, and then he quickly apologized, probably knowing the pain from experience with his own hair. 

Looking in the mirror, my hair lay straight, the curls from before the whole ordeal long gone. This wasn’t how I preferred it, but it was still pretty either way. I felt a sudden aching in my stomach, and my eyes met the Undertaker’s in the mirror. “I’m hungry,” I muttered quietly, standing back up.

He chucked, “Naturally, it’s already almost 11. I’m afraid there’s not much food here, so we’ll go out to eat.”

I nodded, following him as he gathered his things and exited the parlor. A blast of cold air hit my face as I stepped out into the blinding sunlight. “It’s cold.” I noted, looking up at the clear sky. 

“Yes, there’s supposed to be a cold front coming in.” We turned left out of the parlor this time, walking for probably just five minutes before we reached our destination.

It was a small restaurant, open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We were seated at a small table for two, and while we both received menus, the Undertaker didn’t open his. “Are you not eating?” I asked, looking up at him with my eyes, keeping my head positioned down at the menu.

“I don’t need to.” He answered simply.

I shrugged. “Fair.” Looking back down at my menu, my eyes lingered on the pancakes. As if on command, our waiter appeared to ask for our orders. I told him what I wanted, and he returned in the span of the next ten minutes with my food. Myself and the Undertaker exchanged idle chit chat while I ate, much the same as we had done the night before. Inevitably, the deeper conversation topics would come up, but at the moment I couldn’t bring anything like that up. He made me feel different, it was indescribable. It wasn’t something I’d felt before, but I found myself wondering if he felt the same way around me.

“Valerie.” His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up across the table to him expectantly. “That’s the third time I’ve said your name, is something on your mind?” He questioned, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

“Ah.. it’s nothing.” After that we were both silent for a moment, but he could clearly see right through me. Luckily he let the subject go. Instead, he stood up and offered me his arm. 

As we approached the door, it swung inwards, prompting the little bell to ring. A well dressed man with dark hair strode inside, casting a glance in our direction. He was shorter than the Undertaker, but still taller than me. His eyes, a familiar shade of green, met mine from behind a pair of glasses for just a moment. I felt the Undertaker tense beside me, pulling his arm away in favor of placing it protectively around my shoulders. 

He led me past the man and through the door, at which point I ducked underneath the arm across my shoulders. Crossing my arms over my chest, I looked up at the Undertaker, awaiting an explanation. When there was no response, I raised my eyebrows expectantly. He sighed audibly, holding out a hand in my direction as he spoke. “William T. Spears. Supervisor of the management division.”

I took his hand and resumed my position at his side. Neither of us had to say anything, we were both sure of what was to come. It was just a matter of time.


End file.
